


Sparks Fly

by rationalbookworm



Series: Lost And Found [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fourth of July, Kidlock, Lost And Found Series, kid!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2586350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rationalbookworm/pseuds/rationalbookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock pulled Caitlyn down next to him on the old quilt and together they laid back, looking up at the stars peeking through the few clouds still drifting by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparks Fly

**Author's Note:**

> I started this series years ago. When I started transferring my stories to AO3 this was one of the first ones I wanted to put up, but I never got around to it. I haven't really written for this series in a loooooooong while, but I've been thinking about it recently, so I might get back to it. 
> 
> For now, I have a few stories in the series to transfer already, so expect to see more relatively soon. Like today.

Twelve-year-old Caitlyn McGuire was pouting. It was childish but couldn’t be denied. She really shouldn’t be, though. After months of groveling her parents had finally relented and allowed her to stay at the Holmes manor in the country for the bulk of the summer holidays so she wouldn’t have to stay with a sitter while her father went on a business trip (or whatever) to china with her mother tagging along. And up until this morning, she’d been having a wonderful time. She loved the mansion and its vast rooms with nook and crannies to hide away in with a good book, its rolling lawns dotted with daisies, the large oak tree she always climbed to the top making Mycroft yell that she was going to give him a heart attack. Yes, she even loved Mycroft, the annoying prick. She loved all the Holmes’s. They were her family just as much as her parents and grandparents were. But most of all she loved Sherlock. He was her best friend and she didn’t know what she’d do without him. And though she’d never tell him, she always did have a bit of a crush on him. Okay, more than a bit, but they were still just friends and she was okay with that.

But her love and happiness for everything and anything tagged with the name Holmes came crashing down this morning. When she woke up Kate immediately went to the wall calendar Mrs. Holmes had bought her and crossed off the previous day, just as she always did. It was when she saw today’s date that she froze, glaring at the offending little number as ennui set in. It hadn’t lifted since. Not through breakfast, despite everyone clearly trying to cheer her up. They probably saw the date and knew she’d be upset. Not when Sherlock took her out to explore near the pond, him looking for algae to experiment on while she sat nearby, not wanting to look at the fish or try to catch a toad like she normally did. Not when Mycroft offered to take her to the bookstore in town, one of her favorite places to go. She declined, instead slinking off to mope in private.

She had skipped lunch, hiding up in the attic where no one went anymore and sitting by the small window, staring up at the cloud spotted sky. Surprisingly the weather was very nice today, as if to mock her. She scowled up at it before deeming it long enough for the family to have finished eating and deciding she was a lost cause. She went back downstairs into a disused lounge and plopped down on a chair to stare dejectedly at the wall opposite, a habit she picked up from Sherlock.

This was how she was found, except she had spun around so that she hung upside-down, her feet propped up on the back of the chair. She jerked when something brushed lightly at the bottom of her right foot, tickling her. Looking up she saw Sherlock’s messy top of raven hair and a playful smirk. Kate was the only one that could drag out this side of Sherlock. Everyone else, including his parents and brother, just got the sullen know-it-all most of the time. Kate got a loving best friend, playmate, brother, anything she needed really. She tried and failed to smile back, giving more of a grimace before allowing her head to drop back down with a sigh. The tickling sensation came back and she grunted, kicking out to get him to stop. A deep chuckle was the only response. Kate loved when Sherlock had gone through puberty (early, she might add) and gotten his new deeper voice. It was soothing and exciting at the same time, in ways she really didn’t understand, just beginning to go through puberty herself.

He came around the chair and easily lifted her limp form enough for him to slip under so that she was draped across his lap, her head now dangling off the armrest. He didn’t say anything, just sat with her as she drowned in her weariness. This was something she truly loved about Sherlock. No one else would just sit with her for hours on end without speaking a word. There was no need for idle chatter to try to make the other comfortable. They were fine without it.

“Dinner!” Mrs. Holmes’ voice called. Neither teen moved. Normally Kate would go straight away, unashamed of her love of food, but she just wasn’t in the mood right now. Sherlock, on the other hand, had to be forced to eat anything, unless of course it was Kate who asked him. She never failed to get him to willingly eat without the hassle of an argument.

“Caitlyn! Sherlock! Now!” she sounded annoyed now. Not good. Mrs. Holmes was the sweetest woman alive until someone irritated her or pissed her off. Not really wanting to have a bull’s eye on their backs for her wrath, both teens sighed and slowly slid off the overstuffed armchair. Without thinking, Sherlock reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing slightly. A bit of her sadness released at the feeling and she sighed again, more tired than before as she placed her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head affectionately and they walked to the dining room together where Mrs. Holmes looked up, rolled her eyes and motioned them to take the chairs beside each other on one said of the table across from Mycroft, who also rolled his eyes.

The moment she finished eating the bare minimum, Kate planned on excusing herself and going early to bed. She just didn’t want to stay up late on a day that she used to love to celebrate back home. It was just wrong to have no form of party, but what could she do? She’d feel better in the morning she was sure. Unfortunately she was a second away when Mr. Holmes, who had been conspicuously absent till then, came in through the back, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Caitlyn,” he said, sitting at the head of the table and beginning on his now cold dinner. “I know you’ve been feeling a little down today, so I hope you don’t mind that I have something planned for the family tonight. We’ll leave once everyone is finished.”

Kate sighed but nodded in agreement. It’s not like she could argue. Mr. Holmes rarely planned anything for the family and when he did you could be sure it was something amazing. Maybe this is what she needed. Something that was close to celebrating, or at the very least special. It may not be what she would have done in Georgia with her grandparents, but at least it was something.

When every plate was cleared, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes stood and ushered their children (Kate was _always_ included in that phrase, whether she was present or not) out to through the back door rather than the garage door like Kate had thought. They were told to go sit on the quilt spread out on the sloping lawn while Mr. and Mrs. Holmes sat in chairs on the porch. Mycroft, seeming to catch on to what was happening, politely bowed out, slinking back up to his room to do God knows what. Sherlock pulled Caitlyn down next to him on the old quilt and together they laid back, looking up at the stars peeking through the few clouds still drifting by. Kate was confused as to how this was a surprise for them. The stars were always this bright out in the country. It was in London that it was a rare treat to see them. As it was, Sherlock and Kate had already been out stargazing three times this week.

Suddenly there was a loud bang, making Kate jump and clutch onto Sherlock’s hand as her heart leapt up into her throat, making him chuckle. Color streaked up into the sky with a high pitched whistle before exploding overhead. Kate gasped in admiration as it blossomed out and began its descent as another bang sounded followed by another light streak and whistle. Fireworks. They had gotten her fireworks. She pushed herself up onto her elbows to look back at the porch, only to find it void of human life. Smiling widely, she plopped back down to enjoy the show, determined to thank them for this tomorrow.

“Katie,” Sherlock said quietly. She turned her head to look at him, still grinning, only to find his face inches from hers. She swallowed thickly at the dark blue his normally grey eyes were turning. As he inched closer, her eyes fluttered closed. She could feel his breath on her face as he leaned in until soft lips pressed against hers. Her heart stopped only to pick back up twice as fast as he pulled away an inch. She opened her eyes, a small shy smile appearing on her face.

“Happy Fourth of July, Katie.”


End file.
